


Music Fills the Soul

by Hungry_AloeLeaf



Category: Bach - Fandom, Ludwig von Beethoven, Mozart - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: ALL THE ERRORS, Bach has a sad day, Beethoven is baby, High School AU, Mozart had daddy problems that need to be solved, and please point out what I did wrong, been informed that there is, didn't think even a FEW people end up liking this, didn't turn out that well, forgive me please, idk how to tag this, if i portrayed Bey's deafness wrong, is there a fandom of these composers??, it's not well thought out, might change it, the boys, tried to utilize music terms I knew in the past, why am i so bad at titles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24974383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hungry_AloeLeaf/pseuds/Hungry_AloeLeaf
Summary: Follows the misadventures of the world's most renowned composers in historyexceptthey're in high schoolfeels unfinished, may edit or add a new chapter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	Music Fills the Soul

“Gosh, B… you really put a lot into this piece… but why is the whole thing in piano?”

“I suppose I was simply in a piano mood, Wolfgang…” Bach slumped on the desk, dirty blond curls draping over his hand. “Just don’t feel like hearing the orchestra boom later.”

“Okay, you’re upset about something.” Mozart glared down at the moping composer.

Bach only adjusted his glasses, blinking slowly at the dreary weather outside. There was a telltale little pout on his lips that Mozart knew all too well from Bach's other sad days. 

“I fail to see what you are referring to, Wolfgang.”

“You! And your stupid feelings! You know, my dad wouldn’t let this happen. If I had something to compose that desperately needed forte, then-” The fellow songwriter stepped to the window, flinging his arms out in a huge gesture. “ _FORTE_ , my friend! he wouldn't let measly little feelings get in my path!"

"Mozart. Your father is a terrible man."

"You must embrace the call of the notes!" Mozart ranted on. "They call to be louder, Bach! They call to be freed!” He glanced down at his contrastingly unenthusiastic friend with a sniff. “But yet you sit at your desk, slumped like a wilted flower.”

“Wolf-”

“NO! THIS SHALL NOT BE!” Mozart grabbed Bach’s arm and tugged him to the door. “You shall not hinder yourself, my dear friend. I promise I will cheer you up, and this Johannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus Mozart swears to fulfill that promise!”

“Oh goody…”

“Now let us go! Ice cream shall cheer up tho soul!”

\---

Beethoven was deaf.

He couldn’t recall the exact day his hearing faded – but he certainly knew that it was. When even the drums and the tubas became faint to him, the thought of his deafness struck him, and it struck him hard. He’d spent the entire night weeping at his bed, furiously banging the keys of his keyboard in the slight hope that something, anything, would reach his ears. That the world would stop revolving on the steady curve to smash into silence.

It didn’t.

And _oh_ , how it angered him.

He could barely hear his own screams, the crash of a vase on the wall, and stomp of his feet on the floor, _nothing, nothing, nothing!_ Everything was a whisper!

And he hated it.

The people he was boarding with were demanding that he stopped the noise and destruction, and he knew they were yelling, mouths gaping and closing in furious snaps. Their gestures were wild and exaggerated, and he knew he, a 16-year-old boy away from his only family and boarding with strangers, should have feared for his life. He knew not of what those people were capable of, his parents hadn’t done any background checks or anything of the sort. But when they had tramped up the stairs to scold him, he only numbly stared at them.

They were whispers. And nothing more.

His body was cold, his head throbbed when they finally plodded back downstairs.

His mind was still wrapping around it, how everything was a whisper, how everything would never be a furious yell, a frightening crash, an enraged legion of stomps.

He’d never hear a passion driven speech again… the woodwinds, the strings, the percussion… his mother’s soft murmurs…

Everything wouldn’t remain a whisper forever, and he knew it. He knew it was getting worse. But….

What could he do?

When he wrote music, his music, _his voice_ – He could feel it in his fingers whenever he composed. The vibrations would rumble through the strings and the large piano and his fingers would _tremble_. That was it. That was _his voice_. And one day, the entire world would hear!

…even if he couldn’t.

Beethoven slumped on the stool, fingers still shivering on the alabaster keys.

He then rolled his shoulders back, straightening, thick, messy curls tumbling down his back. He flicked out his coat tails. His dark eyes shone brightly with purpose, and his fingers hovered over the keys in preparation to strike-

“Oh shit, I need to go to work!” The boy suddenly leaped up, clumsily falling back in his hurry. “Whoa!”

The teen tumbled to the floor, not bothering to glance around to see if anyone heard the thump. He scrambled away from the piano in the empty school auditorium, scooping up the handle of his backpack in his hand before looking over his shoulder at the wonderful black piano.

“I’ll see you some other time, my love.” He blew the object a kiss. “Now, to the ice cream shop!”

**Author's Note:**

> Beethoven has been and will always continue to be my FAVORITE composer  
> his music rocks


End file.
